


Breathing Again

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-21
Updated: 2008-06-06
Packaged: 2018-10-26 10:09:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10784712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: After the tragedy of war, all anyone can do is learn how to breathe again.





	1. Waking Up from a Bad Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked down the hall away from the office in a comfortable silence, letting all their emotions crash over them. Harry never thought it was possible to feel such relief, sadness, and fatigue all at once. He directed them towards Gryffindor tower, and the friends stopped in front of the open portrait of the Fat Lady. Ron and Hermione decided to head back to the Great Hall to join the Weasley’s, whereas Harry had eyes only for the bed awaiting him upstairs. Hermione pulled Harry into a tight hug, and while he was eager to be alone and rest, he relished her embrace. After several long moments she pulled away and looked up into his green eyes.

“Harry… we are _so_ proud of you…” Her eyes sparkled with newly formed tears.

“You were amazing, mate.” Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder and gave him a sincere smile.

Harry, slightly embarrassed, looked down at feet and mumbled something that sounded like “Thanks.”

Hermione gently turned Harry towards the entrance to the common room. “We’ll see you in a bit, Harry. Go get some sleep.”

Without a second thought, Harry obliged and turned into the common room. He took another look over his shoulder at his friends who were now holding hands. Harry gave a small grin before dragging himself up to the boy’s dormitories. He went to the bed that had been his for the past six years, and although this bed was no longer technically his, he plopped down on it face first. He didn’t even care whose bed it was as he felt his eyelids get heavy. Harry felt a slow rumble in his stomach before registering how hungry he was. It was now late morning, and he could barely remember his last meal at Aberforth’s.

“Kreacher?” he asked weakly.

With a pop, the old house elf appeared before him, looking slightly battle worn but wearing a bright smile. 

“Master Harry was wonderful!” Kreacher exclaimed.

“You weren’t so bad yourself, Kreacher. Thank you so much for your help. We can never owe you and the other house elves enough.”

“Kreacher was proud to fight in the name of his brave master Regulus and his new master Harry!”

“Listen, Kreacher, I’m sorry for asking, but could you bring me a sandwich and some pumpkin juice?”

“With pleasure, Master Harry!” and with a pop, he vanished only to return minutes later with a tray laden with not only the sandwich and juice, but also an assortment of other food and desserts. 

Harry thanked his house elf graciously and began to eat the delicious food in front of him. He seemed to take a page from Ron’s book as he stuffed the food into his mouth without taking a breath. Once he was full to the brim, he leaned back onto the pillow and drifted off without another thought.

Harry awoke with a start, sweat drenching his face and shirt. The last vestiges of his nightmare seemed to hang in the air. Images were burned on his eyes of the elated Death Eaters sitting around the fire, and the strange expression on Voldemort’s demented face before he cast the green spell at Harry’s chest. His breathing slowed after several deep breaths and Harry rubbed his face. He knew he had slept a long time before he even put on his glasses, as the room was now totally black. He picked up his newly repaired wand and muttered, “ _Lumos_.” The flash of light was slightly blinding at first, but as he adjusted his eyes he looked to the gold and slightly dented watch on his hand. 

“Not so late, only 8… I wonder where everyone else is,” Harry thought to himself. He hardly had this thought before he spotted the scribbled note on the dresser.

_Harry,_

_Those of us left here at Hogwarts are still down in the Great Hall. Come join us when you feel up to it._

_Ron_

Harry stretched and made his way downstairs. Occupants of the paintings shouted congratulations to Harry as we passed, and he felt himself go red. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear any of this yet, as images of Fred, Remus, and Tonks flooded his mind. 

As he pushed open the doors to the Great Hall, there were significantly fewer people still celebrating and mourning. He figured the injured had been taken to St Mungo’s, while others sought the respite of their now safe homes. 

Of the few groups of people here, Harry spotted the red-haired Weasley clan along with Hermione and Fleur, all sitting together at a table. They seemed to be consoling one another and celebrating at the same time. Percy had his arm around George, who was hauntingly silent, but still half smiling at this family. Mr. Weasley sat with his arm around his wife’s waist. Hermione and Ron sat rather close and Harry noticed they were holding hands under the table. Bill, Fleur, and Charlie were in the middle of what seemed a light-hearted story, though tears still streaked Fleur’s cheeks. 

Then he saw her. The one, tiny red head he had thought of once the memory of his dream faded. 

Charlie saw Harry first and beckoned him over. Noticing who Charlie was waving to, Ginny did not wait for Harry to reach the table. She sprang up immediately and ran full sprint at Harry with that hard, blazing look he was all-too familiar with. Instead of pulling her into a kiss this time, he merely caught her in a strong embrace. He lifted her off her feet and she buried her face in his neck as her arms wrapped around him. The feel of his hands on the small of her back as he hoisted her up was electrifying to him and Ginny both. 

Finally Harry put her back on her feet, but they did not relent on their hug. Harry rested his chin on top of her head and breathed in the flowery scent, as they swayed slightly. This memorable smell simultaneously stung his eyes with tears and sent shivers down his spine. He felt Ginny heaving deep breathes into his chest and he wondered if she had succumbed to tears. 

How long they stood holding each other, Harry would never know, but then he heard a familiar catcall coming from the Weasley table.

“Oi! Lovebirds-“ 

Harry looked over Ginny’s head to see George look slightly to his side waiting for Fred to finish his thought. Sadness flashed in George’s eyes and he looked down, with a devastated look on his face. Percy gripped harder on George’s shoulder, and his expression lightened marginally. Percy then finished the thought for him.

“What’s going on here? Since when, Ginny?”

But Ginny only stared into those emerald eyes that always enchanted her. She parted her mouth and Harry leaned down to join in on her thought, slightly closing his eyes before they were forced open by sting of a punch on his chest. 

“What was that for?!”

“We thought you _died_! How could you do that to us? I have never felt worse than in that moment you hung in Hagrid’s arms. I felt _myself_ die.”

Harry recoiled with guilt. The sound of his name being screamed by Ginny only a few hours ago pierced his ear drums again and he could only imagine the pain she felt. He looked pleadingly into her eyes, yet he could not find the words or strength yet to explain it all her. He watched as the anger slowly drained from her eyes, replaced with… what? Relief? It was a look he had never seen on her face.

She laced her arms around his waist and returned her head to his chest. She breathed very deeply and slowly for a minute. She spoke softly into his chest and the vibrations her voice sent across it gave him goose bumps. 

“Just never do that to me again.”

Harry ran a finger along her jaw line to her chin, and gingerly lifted it. Meeting her beautiful brown eyes, he replied, “Never… I swear to you.”

He planted the most delicate kiss on the soft lips he had dreamed about in his would-be dying moment. She opened her mouth ever so slightly allowing his tongue to brush gently against her own. They released quickly but gazed at each other again.

“Ginny, will you be mine again?”

“I never stopped being yours.”

They shared another brief, supple kiss, before joining their family at the table. In this moment, Harry realized he had finally found his home.


	2. The Smile Says Everything

How could it have only been a week since that fateful day at Hogwarts? It seemed a lifetime ago from where Harry was now. 

However, it had been two long hours since he watched one of his first friends, Fred Weasley, lowered into the ground. It was Fred and his counterpart George who had helped Harry with his trunk on the Hogwarts Express his first year. In his second year, the twins stole their father’s flying car to rescue him from the Dursleys’. It was the same duo who provided him with the invaluable Marauder’s Map in his third year. Fred and his twin had become such a constant in his magical life, always there to provide some laughs and lots of mischief. Now Fred was buried next to the garden at the Burrow, and the world seemed just a little darker without his mischievous smile. 

George had held up surprisingly well during the ceremony with the help of Percy and the other Weasleys. He had even cracked some jokes during his eulogy and also set off some of their infamous fireworks. Everyone who spoke remembered Fred as a funny, daring, and roguish young wizard, telling one anecdote after the other. Everyone laughed at the antics of Fred until there were tears in their eyes, tears which continue to flow out of sadness after they watched the officiating wizard pile the dirt over Fred’s grave. 

After the other guests left the funeral, Harry and Hermione decided to walk down to the Burrow’s pond to give the Weasleys some alone time. While no one would argue that the two were welcome with this family, Harry and Hermione agreed that they needed to mourn together as a family, and also rally together as a family, and they would just be an intrusion on their sorrow.

When they had reached the pond, they leaned against two separate trees a few yards apart. Harry had hoped Hermione would give him just enough space to leave him to his thoughts. Since the last battle, he had so little time to contemplate the magnitude of what had happened. The past few days had been for mourning, rejoicing, rebuilding, and reconnecting. He scarcely had time to even feel the peace he had obtained for his world.

He idly touched his scar, realizing that he was free from its burden. Sure, the Wizarding Community would always associate it with him, the Boy Who Lived- Twice, the Savior, the Chosen One, and the One to Vanquish He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He had spent the last seven years dealing with the fame that came with the scar, but now he was finally rid of everything else the lightening bolt brought with it. He may never be rid of the nightmares, but at least they were no longer glances into Voldemort’s twisted world. Rather, these were ordinary nightmares and memories of everything Harry had suffered, and hopefully, in time, these too would heal. There were no more headaches, no more visions, no more blinding pain; he even felt lighter and more carefree. His body was finally free of Voldemort, and he felt more capable of love and happiness than ever possible before. Sure, the nightmares would persist for years to come, but Harry could now wake to a peaceful world- one filled with all the love he could handle.

So here he sat for the past two hours after the funeral, lost in these thoughts. Every now and then, he would glance over at Hermione who looked caught up in her own torrent of emotions. He spotted Ginny and Ron heading towards them, arms around each other, and Harry couldn’t hide his smile. Their eyes were both red and puffy but they both wore their brilliant Weasley smiles. When they reached the pond, Ginny hugged her brother close for a long time, before breaking it to head to Harry.

Harry was lounged against the tree facing the pond, and Ginny did not hesitate to sit down in front of him and curl against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her small body and pulled her close. They did not need words as they watched the sun dying into the horizon over the lake. Harry planted a kiss in her flowery scented hair and Ginny nuzzled closer to him. 

Ron went to Hermione, who was still a little ways away against the other tree. Ron laid his head in Hermione’s lap, and she was combing her fingers through his fiery locks. They were talking and Hermione was giggling, but Harry could not hear them from where he sat. 

Unwillingly, his thoughts roamed to that last walk into the Forbidden Forest. He had wished then for just one more moment like this, never thinking it possible. Somehow though, Harry was wrapped around the girl of his dreams with his love-struck best friends only a few yards away. How many people, like Fred, Colin, or the dozens of others, would not have this opportunity again? 

He turned Ginny to face him so he could take in her beauty, take in the whole moment. He had spent enough time reflecting today and now wanted to enjoy the love that had come with his freedom from Voldemort. She sat up in front of him, leaned her forehead to his, and she breathed deeply. Harry laced his hands around her thighs and lifted her directly into his lap as she wrapped her legs around him. They had their arms wrapped around each other, and their bodies were flush against each other. They stayed in this embrace until the sun was but a memory in the sky, and the stars began to sparkle above. 

Intoxicating thoughts swarmed his mind with her close against him. He wanted to kiss her with all the passion he had in him, but he wondered if it was appropriate on a day like today. He looked tentatively over to the spot where Hermione and Ron had been sitting, but the tree was now vacated. She too had noticed their disappearance, and she flashed him that heart-stopping smile. 

“Wonder where they went?” she said playfully. “Actually… Nevermind! I don’t want to know! All I care is that I finally have you to myself.”

Before he even had a chance for a smile, she placed her lips to his. 

For a moment they enjoyed just the touch of each other’s lips on one another, but they soon deepened the kiss and allowed one another in. Harry brushed his tongue along her lower lip first, before exploring her mouth deeply. She returned the favor and before they knew it, they were issuing low moans of appreciation. 

Desire quickened the intensity of their kisses and they began exploring one another with their eager hands. Harry grazed his thumb along the length of her spine and Ginny gave a shudder. She reached down to find the edge of his shirt. She then grazed her fingernails along his bare back, rubbing indeterminate circles along the muscles across his shoulders.

After they broke the kiss, they pulled closer to one another again, desperately seeking the comfort they had been robbed of all year. Those lonely nights in the tent, Harry imagined the feel of her pressed against him and he could hardly believe he was finally experiencing it. He breathed her scent in deep as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

He whispered, almost gasping in her ear, “I love you, Ginny.”

She brushed her lips to his and exhaled “I love you too.”

Both of their lips curled into a smile against each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione could hardly contain her emotions as she looked down at Ron resting contentedly in her lap, her hands reverently running through his hair. ‘After all this time, the back and forth between them, were they really here?’ Hermione thought. ‘Had they both survived and finally given into the emotions that had driven them to all that pointless bickering?’ Hermione almost didn’t want to believe it, worrying that she would wake from this dream.

Ron let out a deep sigh, and murmured to her, “I needed this. All day, I needed this.”

Hermione shivered when Ron’s warm breath hit her legs. “Mmm,” was all she could manage as a reply, not quite trusting herself to mouth a reply. The love she had for this boy- no, this man- in her lap had been part of her for as long as she could remember. She had long suspected he may have a thing for her as well. However, they were both too immature, too proud, too _something_ to come clean with one another. They had both hurt each other, and being as stubborn as they both were, neither wanted to accept blame. And yet they were here cuddled with each other, hopefully moving past these issues.

“Hermione?” 

“Yes?”

“I really like you.”

Hermione could not contain the laugh that escaped her lips. She was not sure if she was laughing at his bluntness, at the obviousness in his statement, or at the fact she had wished to hear those words for years now.

“What?”

“Oh… nothing, nothing,” she got her giggles under control, and replied seriously, “I lo-, er, like you too, Ron.”

“You were going to say it, weren’t you?” He continued to stare out at the lake.

Hermione felt her cheeks blaze in embarrassment and happiness, but she asked innocently, “Say what?” 

“It… you know, it!”

Hermione again did not trust herself to speak. Ron sat up next to her and looked her straight in the eye. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his impossibly blue eyes, particularly since those gorgeous eyes held such affection in them. 

“C’mon, Hermione. You can tell me. Say what you were going to say.”

Hermione just shook her head, but never took her chocolate eyes off the sapphire ones.

“I know our stubbornness can get in our own way, and I can see it in your eyes right now that you hardly trust yourself to say it first. It’s okay, don’t worry, I’ll let you win this round,” He said with a smile. “I love you, Hermione, and I won’t let anything, not our fear or our stubbornness, get in our way again. I’ve wasted too much time-“

But she cut him off with a searing kiss. After the initial shock wore off, he returned it with fervor. When she broke it, he whimpered at the loss.

“With all of me, Ron, I love you. You are my best friend. You are my everything. Now please… _Please_ , don’t ever stop kissing me.”

He could no longer contain the wide, boyish smile that had won her heart so many years ago. He leaned in and kissed her with everything he had. They felt the smiles on each other as they embraced. 

Suddenly, Ron broke the kiss. Hermione looked startled but recovered quickly as she saw Ron hop to his feet and offer her his hand.

“I think we need some privacy… er, let’s walk, yeah?” 

She too jumped to her feet and laced her fingers in his. They took off at a brisk pace, not even sparing a look to the other couple cuddled near the pond.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Eventually, the couple by the pond rested back onto the soft ground, completely content. Ginny laid her head and her hand on Harry’s chest, trying to synchronize her breathing with his. Harry stared up at the clear night sky, one arm behind his head, the other playing in Ginny’s soft, flaming locks. In this moment, his life seemed perfect. It was as if there had been no Voldemort. He wanted to stay like this forever.

“Ginny?”

“Mmm?”

“I know we are young… too young, in fact…”

Harry faltered for only a second before proceeding.

“I want you to be my wife. Maybe not soon, but I refuse to live one more day of my life without you.”

Ginny was so quiet, he barely heard her asking, “Are you proposing?”

“Well, that would involve me _asking_ you, but really I’m not _asking_ … you really don’t have a choice in the matter,” he joked. Ginny giggled and gripped his side.

“Honestly though,” he continued, “I will ask you properly someday, when the time is right. But I want you to know now, you have me forever. There is not getting rid of me now.”

“When did you become such a mushy git?” she teased and began tickling his sides. He laughed hard and attacked her back, tickling her everywhere. She writhed against his hands, laughing loud.

“Tell me you’ll say yes!” he shouted through their laughs. “C’mon, say it!”

“Okay… Okay… I’ll say it” she gasped and giggled.

“Say what?” he laughed, “Say it or the tickling continues!”

“Yes! I’ll say yes! Just… please, Harry!” Ginny eked out and his loving torture subsided. 

They continued to roll around laughing and playing until they heard a loud Mrs. Weasley call to the couples from the door. 

“Guess we better head in before she comes looking,” Ginny said, sighing yet smiling. Harry stood up and helped his girlfriend to her feet. They shared another quick, but passionate kiss before turning hand in hand towards the house. 

Out of the corner of Harry’s eye, he saw two figures emerging from the trees. He nudged Ginny, and she clasped her hand over her mouth to avoid letting out a shout of laughter. 

Ron and Hermione were hurriedly fixing their disheveled clothes and hair, yet still looking quite pleased with themselves. Once they seem to think they looked smart enough, Ron slipped his arm around Hermione’s waist and she leaned into him. Wide smiles were etched across their faces.

“Took ‘em long enough to finally give in,” Harry choked between silent fits of laughter, “Do think they’ll stop rowing now?” 

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, still giggling. “Think mum will ever forgive dad for sneaking the flying motorbike into the shed?”

Harry laughed appreciatively and pulled her into him. ‘I think I may just love that sense of humor even more than her beautiful face _,’_ Harry thought. Sneaking a look at his girlfriend, Ginny flashed him her brilliant smile, and his heart faltered. ‘Well, maybe not,’ he thought, ‘but lucky for me, I don’t have to choose.’


	3. Careers, Privacy, and Legilimency

It was a mere fortnight before the Hogwarts Express would be setting off from Platform 9 and 3/4. Ginny was sitting at the desk in her room, glumly looking over her booklist. She still had one more year at Hogwarts, and there was no convincing her mother to let her drop out. She knew already that she wanted to pursue Quidditch professionally, so she did not understand why she had to bother with another year at school. She was surprised that even her raven-haired boyfriend encouraged her to return for her seventh year.

Harry was seated on her bed, watching her with some amusement. When she let out an exaggerated sigh, Harry tried to reassure her, “At least you’ll be Quidditch captain! Besides, I don’t want you missing out on your last year because of any other reason.” He flashed Ginny his best knowing smile. 

Harry had already decided shortly after the last funeral that he would not finish his schooling, having already been offered a position in the newly reformed Auror department at the Ministry. He was worried at first that because he had not completed the necessary N.E.W.T.s, he would be unable to fulfill his dream of being a dark wizard catcher. However, saving the world from the most evil dark wizard ever certainly added something to his resume. The Order of Merlin, First Class that he, Ron and Hermione all had received helped as well. Kingsley assured Harry that he was more than qualified to join the training program without the N.E.W.T.s. He had already started training by the end of June.

Ron turned down the offer of also joining the Auror program, but only temporarily. He decided to help George get the shop back together first, as he was the only Weasley available for the job. Not that he complained, because he had always hoped to be a part of the twin’s joke shop, even if the circumstances were not ideal. Ron was nothing if not loyal, and he knew he could never leave George alone with the task of rebuilding the joke shop, having lost his partner and twin so recently.

Hermione also turned down a spot in the Auror training program with the hope of returning to Hogwarts to finish her schooling. However, when the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry offered her a job, Hermione jumped at the chance. Finally, she knew she would be in a position to make a difference in the lives of house elves and other magical creatures. She was pained to not finish school and receive her N.E.W.T.s, but the thrill of accomplishing something worthwhile overshadowed any of her doubt.

It was because of this that Harry had set off to Auror training alone.

“Auror training takes a lot of my time as it is, you know? So please don’t miss out on getting Gryffindor the house cup on account of me.”

“Harry James Potter! That is extremely presumptuous of you to assume I’d leave school on your account.”

Harry looked Ginny straight in the eye, never wavering with that knowing smile.

“Oooh you are such a git! I hate that smile, you know. Hate it! Have you suddenly mastered Legilimency? If you have, you’d best tell me now so I can get myself some Occlumency lessons!”

“Afraid I might see all your hidden desires for me?”

“Wha-? Yeh- no! Argh, you are infuriating!”

Harry chuckled before coming up behind Ginny and wrapping his arms around her waist. He leaned down to talk directly into her ear, and she felt shivers run through her as Harry’s breath spread warmth across her neck. It was funny how a simple touch or breath could melt her frustrations.

“Ginny, you know I’m going to miss you too, right? I am going to hate every second I have to be away from you, especially after I swore I’d never leave your side again. But we just have to do what’s best for both of us. Nothing will change; I promised you all of me forever, and I meant it. This won’t be like last year. There are Hogsmeade visits, Quidditch matches…” 

Ginny spun without notice and kissed him full on the mouth. 

“I went almost a whole year without seeing or hearing from you. I just… I never… not again, Harry.”

“You’re right. Never again, because I’ll write everyday. I’ll come see you any chance I get. You need to do this, Gin. You are the best chaser I know, and I’m sure you’ll make the team. But I already feel responsible for two Weasleys’ not finishing their school, and it really is important that you finish.”

“Oho! Look at the kettle calling the pot black! You never finished and look at you! …Okay, well the circumstances are different, I know, but still. I-I’m going to miss you, Harry.”

Harry rested his forehead to Ginny’s. “I know, love. But we’ll make the best of it, yeah?”

“I guessss…” Ginny said exasperatedly, but with a smile pulling at her lips. She leaned in for another kiss, which turned from chaste to passionate in a heartbeat. Before she knew it Harry had her backed up to her bed, and they tumbled onto it without breaking the kiss. 

“Oi! At least close the door if you’re going to do that!” They both looked up to see Ron dramatically covering his eyes in Ginny’s doorway. Beside him, Hermione was just shaking her head and laughing as she tried to pull him away from the door.

“Oh that’s rich coming from you!” Ginny said acidly. “Don’t act like I didn’t catch Hermione straddling you on that little bed of yours last night. At least we have our shirts on!”

Ron and Hermione both turned so red Harry thought they might just squirt tomato juice from their ears. Ron shuffled down the steps looking defeated, dragging a humbled-looking Hermione with him. Harry caught part of Ron’s mumbled words as he walked, “…just back from Australia…” and “…no privacy in this house…”

Harry sympathized with Ron’s frustration. Hermione had just returned to the Burrow yesterday evening after having been gone for two weeks without word. She had gone to Australia to fix her parents memories, and then spent some time with them, helping them get re-established. Ron became more irritable with each passing day without Hermione. Harry couldn’t blame him really, as he understood that two weeks without Ginny was going to be just as hard for him. 

However, luckily for all of them, privacy would no longer be such an issue. Ron would soon be moving into the flat above the joke shop with George, and Harry and Hermione had decided to find a two bedroom flat in London. With Ron helping his brother return Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to its original glory and Hermione and Harry both working at the Ministry, it made sense for them to find a place nearby. There was some discussion about getting a flat for all three of them, but Ron thought it was best to stay with George as he tried to grieve and recover. Not to mention, both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley had some uneasiness about Ron and Hermione living together. Hermione felt it would be improper for them to share a flat, despite having shared a small camping tent for almost a year. At first when the living arrangement had been decided, Ron was disgruntled by Harry and Hermione living alone together. However, Harry reassured him again that they were practically brother and sister. “I meant what I said that night you destroyed the locket.” Ron gave an involuntary shudder at the memory, but nodded all the same.

Harry and Hermione eventually found a flat, which was quite spacious and within walking distance of Diagon Alley. This pleased Ron to no end, since he was only a few short minutes from his best friends. However, much to the chagrin of Harry, they planned to move out of the Burrow the day before Ginny left, on the 31st of August. He had hoped that Ginny and he could take advantage of the freedom afforded by the flat, but the lease would not make it possible. He, much like Ron, was a little tired of having his snog sessions interrupted by a Weasley, especially one as dangerous as Mrs. Weasley. Just last week she had caught Ginny and him in a very compromising position in her room, hence the reason for the open door and Ron’s eyeful.

“You three need to get into this flat immediately! Just imagine what a door will do for our relationship…” Ginny mused with a giggle. Harry smiled and couldn’t help but agree.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Later that night, Hermione was nestled up next to Ron on the sofa of the empty sitting room. All the Weasleys had gone to bed for the night, but Ron and Hermione decided to stay up and take advantage of some much-needed alone time. Ron was waiting until Harry and Hermione could move into their flat before joining George above the joke shop. Consequently, the couple had few opportunities to be by themselves in the crowded Burrow. 

“Ron?”

“Yes, love?” Hermione couldn’t help but smile every time he used this affection. She never thought she would see the day when Ron would show such open emotion to her.

“Do you think we’re making the right decision? You know, by not going back to school? I shudder every time I think of my file saying zero N.E.W.T.s. Should I- should we be going back to Hogwarts?” 

“Love, as much as I loved Hogwarts, I know I’m making the right decision by staying with George. He’s going to need someone by his side until he adjusts to life without Fr-Fred.” Hermione shifted closer to Ron in an attempt to comfort him. He smiled at her gesture, but continued, “And as for you, this is your dream, Hermione! Remember all those bloody hats and socks you knitted! Now you’ll have the opportunity to actually make a difference.” This time Hermione pulled away so she could turn and give him a pointed look. “I mean, not to say you didn’t make a difference then… I mean obviously you helped… oh, sod it! You know what I mean! This is your chance to make big changes for all magical creatures. No one will find you inadequate because you did not take your N.E.W.T.s. Anyone who saw your Hogwarts grades and O.W.L. scores know you would have aced every last one of your bloody N.E.W.T.s! And need I remind you that we are the youngest wizards and witch to receive Orders of Merlin, First Class ever?” 

Hermione settled back into Ron and sighed forcefully. “I know you’re right. I am just having a hard time adjusting to the idea. I never imagined in my wildest dreams I would be a drop-out.”

“Psh!” Ron scoffed. “As if anyone would be mental enough to consider you as a drop-out! I love you, Hermione, but you can be barking sometimes. To think they call you the smartest witch of our generation…” She swatted at him playfully, but appreciated his back-handed compliment all the same. 

Feeling slightly embarrassed, she decided to steer the conversation away from herself. “Do you think you’ll work at WWW forever?”

“Who knows… maybe… can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I think I still want to be an Auror. Besides being the star Keeper for the Cannons, my dream has been to become an Auror. Who knows if they’ll still let me train after I work at the joke shop? It may be a bit of a stretch for them, really, since I already rejected their offer and I never did have the best grades…” 

“Ron, don’t make me use your own words against you…”

“Oh, come off it, Hermione! I never had as much going for me as you did, and you know it.”

Hermione sat up immediately, grabbing Ron’s shoulders to turn him towards her. He kept his eyes down, but she put her hand under his chin and lifted his head. When he eventually met her eyes, she had to remind herself what she was going to say. Hermione never thought she’d be the type of girl who became speechless by a mere look from a boy, yet here she was, stupefied not by a wand, but by a glance from those blue eyes. Once she regained her thoughts, she spoke with as much honesty and affectionate that she could muster.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, I never want to hear you say anything like that ever again. You are brilliant, loyal, and brave. You earned that Order of Merlin on your own merits. The Ministry will wait for you to settle things with George, because they would be fools not to. You will make an amazing Auror someday, Ron. I’m convinced of it. No more doubting yourself, okay?”

Hermione wasn’t sure but she thought she saw his eyes become glassy with unshed tears. However, before she got a chance to find out, his lips had descended to hers. 

“I don’t deserve you, Hermione Granger…” he murmured against her lips.

“Ronald! What the bloody hell did I just say?”

Ron pulled away with a startled look. “You just cursed! I can’t believe you just-“

“Oh shut the hell up” and she silenced his next comment with a bruising kiss. Her tongue demanded entrance into his mouth and he obliged happily. Their mouths started a battle for control, as Hermione’s hands wound through Ron’s fiery hair and Ron pulled Hermione down on top of him. Their lips only relented when their lungs gasped for air. 

They were stretched out on the sofa, and Hermione looked down at Ron’s swollen lips and flushed cheeks. She swore his eyes had darkened three shades. Her clothes were suddenly feeling like a huge, suffocating burden. 

“There are far too many clothes between us, love,” gasped Ron.

“Since when did you learn how to cast ‘legilimens’ nonverbally and without your wand?”

Ron laughed and, without waiting for formal permission, lifted Hermione’s t-shirt over her head. Ron looked in wonder, since underneath, Hermione had on a black lace bra. “Just chock full of surprises, aren’t you love?”

In lieu of a response, Hermione ran her hands down his chest seeking out the hem of his shirt. Her fingers closed around the bottom and she pulled up on the t-shirt. Ron lifted his back to make the undressing easier, and once she tossed the offending garment away, she leaned back down to catch his mouth in another sweltering kiss. 

The feel of skin on skin was exhilarating and she acutely felt her arousal wet her knickers. Unconsciously, she ground her hips into his, eliciting a growl from the man below her. She could feel his want for her, and the excitement of it caused her to move rhythmically above him. He was caressing her breasts with awkward, but wonderful movements that made her crave more of him. 

She wasn’t even sure how much further she wanted to take this, but just as she was about to reach down and free him from his jeans, she heard Harry’s voice from the stairway.

“Guess we’re even then?” 

Hermione yelped and fell of the sofa, landing with a thump on the floor. She grabbed for her shirt and covered her chest with it as quick as she could manage. Ron, on the other hand, had grabbed the pillow from behind him and placed it over his crotch. They both yelled at the same time.

“HARRY!” 

“Bloody hell! What the hell are you doing down here?”

“Oh me? I just came down for a couple more of those chocolate biscuits… but oh how sorry I did that now!” 

“Oh I’ll show you sorry, you wanker…”

“You sure that you want to use that particular word in this current situation, mate?” 

“Oh, you’ll pay for that…” He started to get up, but Harry never heard Ron’s threat since he was bounding back up the stairs, laughing with every step.

“Only 13 days, 1 hour, and 32 minutes until we can finally get just a little bit of privacy,” said Hermione, as she pulled her t-shirt back over her head.

“Oh my brilliant witch… but wait… Just a little bit privacy? Don’t you want loads and loads of privacy?” Ron winked and waggled his eyebrows.

She tossed him his t-shirt, “Keep dreaming, love.” Secretly though, Hermione was thinking that lots of privacy is _exactly_ what she wanted.


	4. We Can Work It Out

A/N: THANK YOU to aperryx for sticking with me for this story, for the encouragement, and for the unfailing advice!!

 

 

Hermione assumed her conversation the night before with Ron would assuage her anxieties about forgoing her seventh year, but instead she found herself more confused. She knew Ron would support her no matter what, but she also wasn’t foolish enough to think he wouldn’t prefer her to be in London near him. Maybe foolish is exactly what she was being, though. She already had secured a dream job, so why should it matter she never finished at Hogwarts and didn’t take it N.E.W.T.s.? 

Problem was that it DID matter to her. 

For as early as she could remember, learning dominated Hermione’s life. In fact, academia defined who Hermione Granger was- brilliant, questioning, challenging, motivated. Now, while there were many other things that characterized her, she still struggled over reducing her education to playing such a backseat role in her life.

Hermione reminisced fondly about this time seven years prior; she was a fearful, excited eleven-year-old who was desperately absorbing each and every book she purchased at Flourish and Blott’s. And she had bought _a lot_ of books. When she had received her letter from Hogwarts, she hadn’t been sure which emotion to conquer first. Fear, doubt, relief, giddiness, anticipation, and a multitude of other feelings had been bubbling inside her. Fear over leaving her parents and the life she had built for her first eleven years (even though that life was precariously balanced on books.) Doubt over the truth of this offer to study witchcraft. (If nothing else, Hermione Granger was sensible, and convincing her that witches even existed, let only the she was one, proved quite a challenge.) Relief, giddiness, and anticipation came in equal measures since she knew she was always a bit different from her peers, but she could now put a name to her… differences, and she could live amongst children who were just like her! Of course, upon arrival at Hogwarts, she found that she was still quite different from her peers, but at least it was now in less obvious and scary ways.

She continued to reflect that these same emotions (perhaps minus the relief and giddiness) were racing through her mind a year ago, hiding in Grimmauld Place with no plans to board the Hogwarts Express for what should have been her seventh year. Though at the time her path ahead was obvious (she would follow Harry to the grave if necessary), her heart still clenched with the grief of not finishing school at Hogwarts

Hogwarts had become the first place Hermione had really felt comfortable. Of course it had taken a few months for Harry and Ron to warm to her, not to mention for her to chill out some. Actually, she had needed to chill out a lot had she been completely honest with herself. Furthermore, they had gone on so many dangerous adventures that calling her time at Hogwarts “comfortable” was somewhat laughable. But for the first time in her life, Hermione had real friends who understood her and who were impressed, as opposed to frightened, by her ability to create magic. So how could she not feel disheartened for not returning to Hogwarts and completing her schooling?

It was during those six years at the school for Witchcraft and Wizardry that Hermione had discovered herself. Then, and during her year as a fugitive, Hermione had gained invaluable perspective. It was not the end of the world if she failed a test or got detention or even dropped out of school- so long as it was for a righteous cause. Being a good friend and a courageous person were now more important to Hermione than a silly letter grade. 

But what was her excuse now? There was no abominably evil wizard threatening their existence. Sure, she was being offered a dream job, but what about her dream of being Head Girl, getting Os on every last N.E.W.T., or graduating the top of her class? 

No, this “not finishing something” business was not for Hermione Granger. She _hated_ quitting anything, even that ridiculous subject of Divination. 

She may have gained perspective on her education, but she hadn’t lost her passion for it. 

She knew she just had to go back.

Hermione pulled herself up from her camp bed in Ginny’s room and quietly went to her desk. Ginny muttered something and shifted fitfully in her sleep. Hermione cast a worried look at the small redhead who looked troubled even in sleep. Vowing to talk to her friend later, Hermione pulled out a parchment and quill, quickly scribbled out two letters, and sent them off with Pig. As she made her way down to the kitchen, Hermione decided she wouldn’t mention this to Ron, not until she had at least gotten the responses. The longer she put off having to see that disappointed look in his eyes, the better.

Was she crazy? Probably. Did this feel right? Absolutely.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mrs Weasley was bustling around the kitchen of the Burrow, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the air. Mr Weasley had his face buried behind the _Daily Prophet_ , while Harry and Hermione sat at the long table in companionable silence.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help, Mrs Weasley?” inquired Hermione.

“Yeah, we don’t mind helping…” Harry added.

“Oh thank you, dears, but I have it. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind grabbing some plates from the cupboard though?”

“Sure” Hermione and Harry chorused as they pushed away their chairs and made their way to the cupboard. 

Harry saw a flash of red as Ginny slouched into the room, and plopped down at the table. She looked as if she were half asleep as she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hands.

“Morning, sunshine,” Harry said before leaning down to kiss the top of her head and set a plate in front of her. “Sleep well?” 

“Not exactly.”

Harry pulled up the chair next to Ginny and turned to her with concern etched across his face. “Is everything alright?”

“Eh, just some lingering nightmares. They’re getting better though, and I’m getting more sleep each night. I suppose I just have to ride this out.”

“I know what you mean,” replied Harry, nodding significantly. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Next time, just come get me. I know sleeping with you always makes _me_ feel better so…” He gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Thanks,” she whispered back and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Harry caught Mr Weasley flashing them a small smile momentarily before disappearing back behind his newspaper once again, while Mrs Weasley give an almost inaudible contented sigh from the sink. Harry knew they considered him as good as their son, but these little moments of approval of his relationship with Ginny made his heart soar. That they trusted him with their youngest and only daughter was the greatest honour they could have ever bestowed upon him, and they had bestowed him with many, many honours, not least of which was providing him with a family.

A few minutes later, his other favorite red head made his way into the kitchen and grabbed the chair next to Hermione. They gave each other shy smiles, and Harry had the impression that perhaps there was some discreet touching beneath the table. Harry gave them a wink and, sure enough, Ron blushed while his hand appeared from underneath the table. Harry figured Ron’s hand had likely only found Hermione’s knee, but after the compromising position he had found them in last night, they seemed keen on proving their innocence.

Mrs Weasley levitated the small feast to the table and everyone loaded their plates. Mrs Weasley usually outdid herself on Saturday breakfast, and today seemed no exception. Eggs, home fries, every type of breakfast meat imaginable, toast, pastries, and puddings all weighed down the long kitchen table. The trio especially took every advantage of a meal like this after the many hungry days spent on the run, relishing the good home cooking they longed for on their journeys.

Mr Weasley had set down the paper and inquired about their plans for the sunny, summer day. They all agreed (to the chagrin of Hermione) that some Quidditch was in order, and afterwards, they would take advantage of the cool pond. 

“I have to pop into Weasley Wizard Wheezes though in the afternoon, so I can help with the pre-Hogwarts rush,” said Ron. However, he didn’t seem to notice the way Hermione momentarily froze at the mention of Hogwarts. Though curious about this odd movement, Harry’s attention was snapped back to the scuffing of chairs as his three friends got up from the table and made their way out the back door, heading for a mercifully carefree day- or so he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The teams were split up the same as the summer before sixth year, with Hermione and Harry playing Ron and Ginny. They had tried once to play as one couple against the other, but that ended disastrously with Harry and Ginny flattening Ron and Hermione. After playing for most of the morning, they eventually made their way down to the pond. The boys stripped down to their shorts and dove into the chilly water, while Hermione and Ginny chose to lounge on the bank.

Ginny observed that Hermione was being quieter than usual, and was looking very contemplative. Finally, as though making a decision, she started, “Ginny, listen…” she paused as if searching for the right words, “I’m nervous about you. I can tell you haven’t been sleeping much. And when I was sitting at your desk this morning, you were mumbling and rolling in your sleep. Now, I know the symptoms- I saw enough of it from Harry those last few months- but I’m hoping you’ll take my advice where he hasn’t and will talk to me about these nightmares. Maybe it’ll help…”

Ginny sighed but didn’t answer her immediately. She wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable reliving the horrors she saw every night in her dreams. 

Just last night, she dreamed that she had woken in the middle of the night to see Harry dead, sprawled out in front of her, just like the night of the battle. Then she heard that high voice directly in her ear, chilling her, raising her hair, causing her skin to crawl. “I used you to kill him. It’s all your fault, girl. How does it feel to have killed the boy wonder?” She couldn’t stop staring at Harry’s prone figure in front of her, his brilliant eyes now blank and unseeing. She muttered “No, no, no,” willing to pull herself from her own nightmare. Then his breath had hit her ear, “Now you’re mine.” She turned to face Voldemort, to fight back, but a blanket was flung over her head and she felt like she was suffocating. She wrestled with the blanket, desperate to fill her lungs with air but somehow failing. She continued to struggle until it seemed like it was no use… she was going to die like this, in this nightmare. It was this moment that she was resigned to her fate when she was able to take deep gulps of air and she was thrust back into consciousness. Sweaty, breathing heavy, and wrapped uncomfortably in her sheet, she noticed her surroundings. She was alone in her room- no Hermione in the camp bed, and certainly no dead Harry on her floor. The sunlight was streaming through her curtains, and another day had dawned in a world without Voldemort. Ginny just couldn’t understand why this fact wouldn’t penetrate her psyche and allow her some peace.

How could Ginny possibly explain this experience to Hermione? After all she had been through? 

“It’s okay, Hermione. They’ll pass on their own. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Hermione looked wholly unconvinced but nodded her head. “Ginny, there’s something else I wanted to discuss… I’m really nervous about telling Ron, because you know how he gets. And I’m not even sure if it’s the right decision, but I’ll have no choice once I get my response today. I think I need to just follow my heart, but how do you ever know if that’s right-“

“Whoa there, Hermione. You’re completely rambling, now start from the beginning.”

Just then the boys made their way out of the pond and were making their way to the girls, casting drying charms on themselves. Hermione shook her head and mouthed “later” to Ginny. 

“Hey Ron, were you expecting a letter from Pig?” Looking up, Ginny saw the miniscule owl making its way toward them. She turned a questioning eye to Hermione, who looked equally thrilled and nervous. Ron turned in time to see Pig swoop down and nearly fly right into Hermione. The small bird flew excitedly around her head before allowing her to catch him and pull the two letters from his leg.

“I borrowed Pigwidgeon this morning, Ron. I hope you don’t mind.” Without waiting for his response, she rushed on, “Listen, I’ll meet you lot inside in a minute, okay?” Hermione hurried away from them, heading around the pond.

Ron and Harry looked thoroughly confused, and Ron made to follow her, but Ginny caught his arm. “Let’s get some lunch, okay? I’m sure she’ll explain when she comes in.” She kept her grip on his arm and steered him back towards the house. 

Ron was sputtering excuses to follow his girlfriend, but Ginny interrupted him. “Don’t worry about it, Ronnie-kins. I’m sure she’ll explain everything later.”

Ron mumbled, “I hate when you call me that…” but nonetheless followed his sister toward the Burrow. As Harry found a seat at the table, he saw Ron steal a glance out the window at Hermione sitting by the pond. A myriad of emotions were obvious on his face, and Harry had to admit he was curious about Hermione’s behaviour as well. 

He leaned into Ginny as he picked a sandwich from the middle of the table. “You know something, don’t you Gin?” She only shrugged in response, since she didn’t honestly know much herself.

Hermione swept into the kitchen with determination and a smile.

“Right,” She said, “Ron, I’m going to follow you through the Floo Network when you go to work. I have some shopping to do in Diagon Alley.”

“But- wait, what? What’s going on, Hermione? Who were those letters from? What do you have to shop for?” His questions were laden with concern and curiosity, but showed no sign of anger. While it was like Hermione to rush around without fully explaining her actions, it was very out of character for her to keep anything from him. Well except for that whole being in love with him for years and never acting on it thing, but who was he to point fingers there?

“I’ll explain later, I promise,” she replied hurriedly, grabbing a half of a sandwich off the table before making her way to the staircase. 

“Wait! Hermione! What do you mean-“ Curiosity was getting the better of him.

“Later, Ron… honest! I have to go get ready.”

“Mental, that one… it’s like those times she rush off to the library when she had a brainwave. Would it really be an inconvenience to just _explain_ what’s going on in that mind of hers?”

“You trust her, right?” 

“Of course, Gin, it’s just that she always does this...”

“If you trust her, then just let it lie. She said she’ll tell you later.”

Ron huffed, but didn’t respond. He crammed another two sandwiches in his mouth before slinking up the stairs to change for work. Twenty minutes later, Ron and Hermione were downstairs and getting ready to Floo to the joke shop. Harry caught Ginny’s eye and they chucked softly at the familiar picture of Ron and Hermione bickering, this time about Hermione being so aloof. Then with a whoosh from the fireplace, they were gone. 

Harry turned to Ginny, “Where’s your mum and dad?” 

“Oh, they left a note that they walked to town. That’s why mum left us the sandwiches.”

With a mischievous smile, Harry turned to Ginny. “All alone…” his voice thick with mock sadness, “what ever are we supposed to do now?”

As a response, Ginny grabbed the front of Harry’s shirt and backed him towards the door. He followed her enthusiastically as she led them off to their favorite secluded spot in the orchard.

~*~*~*~

Once there, Harry conjured a blanket and they nestled comfortably onto the blanket. They lay on their sides and just looked at one another for what felt like hours. In fact, it was only about two minutes before Harry closed the gap and was ensconced in the flowery scent and the sweet taste of Ginny. His thin lips pushed softly against her full ones, and he felt her long red lashes brush against his cheek as her eyes fluttered shut. Her lips opened Harry’s and her tongue probed lightly into his mouth. This was Harry’s favorite part of kissing her, when their tongues first found each other and slid against each other oh so sensually. His lips closed around her strawberry flavored tongue and sucked on it with only just so much pressure. 

He then felt her trail her fingertips lazily from his shoulder, up the back of his neck, and into his messy hair. He was so attuned to every detail of the moment that he could have sworn he felt every single strand of hair that made contact with Ginny’s small hand. How could he even stop himself from rolling his hips and bringing his body right into contact with hers? Her leg wound around his, and she pulled herself directly into his wiry form. He felt every inch of her body against him, and he had a feeling that she could feel every last inch of him- literally. His hand which was sprawled at the junction of her back and her bum held her steady against him. The only rational thought he could muster was ‘perfect,’ and that’s exactly what he muttered into her mouth, their warm breath mingling together.

Such was his happiness and delirium that he failed to initially feel the wetness on his cheeks. It wasn’t until her breath hitched, that he opened his eyes to find bright brown, glistening eyes staring back at him. Tears were leaking out and wetting both of their cheeks. Harry only dared to pull his head back, refusing to relinquish the feel of her body against his. 

“What… What’s wrong, Ginny? Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head and even more tears spilled out and coated her flushed face. 

“Gin, love, why are you crying?”

“I-i-i-t’s th-those nightmares.” She screwed her eyes shut and began to sob in earnest.

Baffled, Harry did the only thing he could think of, and brought her face down to his chest, nestling her there and planting delicate kissed to her fiery hair. He rubbed her back as she gave into great, heaving sobs. Only when she was reduced to deep breaths and the occasional hiccup, did he pull back to look into her face again. Harry would never admit this aloud, because he felt so guilty about it, but God was she a gorgeous crier. The tears illuminated her already bright eyes and tiny teardrops clung to her eyelashes. He resisted the urge to kiss them away, and pressed her again. “Tell me what’s wrong, tell me about these nightmares.”

At first, Ginny resisted, shaking her head and looking away from him, but Harry was having none of it. “C’mon, Gin. You can’t keep this inside.”

“This was all just so perfect. I was… I am feeling so connected to you, and unbidden my dream from last night came crashing back to me. And I just can’t get the image out of my head, Harry…”

Ginny went on to tell him all about her nightmare, while Harry rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, removing the salty tears with as much care and preciousness that he could muster. When she finished telling him, he tucked her back under his chin again, but this time Ginny didn’t cry. Instead she clung to Harry as if her life depended on it, and if he had asked her, she would say that it did.

 

 

 

A/N: If you feel Ginny is out of character in this chapter, hang with me until Chapter 5 where the issue will be addressed :) Reviews, constructive and otherwise, are always greatly appreciated! 


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